Brotherly Love
by Frodo Silverlune
Summary: Rose doesn't understand, Sam, how two people can love each other and still be friends." Frodo's sad thoughts for the brother he'll never have. No slash.


Brotherly Love  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, and none of the characters.la la la  
  
NO SLASH  
  
BEFORE YOU READ THIS STORY put on your innocent caps. Taken the wrong way, this story MAY sound very slashy. It is purposely written to be a intimate Frodo/Sam fic WITHOUT slash. Take a deep breath, clear your mind of dirty thoughts, and plunge in.  
  
~~~~*~~~~  
  
Rose doesn't understand, Sam, how two people can love each other and still be friends. I'm afraid not many do. The phrase 'I love you' is restricted to an intimacy shared only between couples or family members. Eru forbid it should pass between friends.  
  
So how can I say I love you, without sounding passionate? For that is not how I feel. There is not a seductive bone in your body, only gentleness, kindness. Love for all growing things shines in your eyes. You're innocent. You love Rosie in the intimate way, as it should be. And I feel no jealousy for that. She belongs to you, you belong to her. Two souls in one. Your wedding rings serve as a reminder of your commitment, as they should.  
  
Yet it saddens me at the same time. I love you, Sam, and I'm afraid you may never realize that. It never really occurred to me until after the Quest, when I faced the reality of losing you. My heart leapt for joy when you proposed to her, but a seed of bitterness and longing was planted in the depths of my soul.  
  
You deserve her, Sam. She's a wonderful lass, full of life and spirit. She loves you, I can see it when her eyes light up as you step into the room. And I can see your pain, how you long to spend more time with her, but don't, somehow. You should.  
  
Forget me. You have her now. You can look after her, and I'll fade into the distance like a candle melted down to die in the last sputtering moments of its life.  
  
How can you ever know how my spirit lifts when you laugh? I long for you to hold me like you did in Mordor. I lost my parents at 12, Sam. I hadn't been embraced for forty years, until you held me in the pass of Cirith Ungol. I felt so safe, knowing you were watching me, protecting me. Did you know I dreamed, on the pass into Mordor? I dreamed of my parents, and when I woke up I thought my father was holding me, for a moment. I hadn't dreamed about them since the accident.  
  
Do you have any idea how I treasure you? To spend one moment alone, sitting together, would be worth more to me than a thousand mithril coats. To watch the sunset from atop Bag End, and not say anything. Just sit and enjoy each other's company.  
  
If only we could spend one afternoon together, fishing, or hiking, or sitting in the shade and thinking, it would mean so much. If only you could forget about her for one day, and we could be friends, as we were before the Journey. We were best friends then, nearly brothers, but I don't think we realized that.  
  
We took our friendship for granted. I always knew where you were, and you the same. If there was something going on, we went together without thinking about it. Do you remember the fairs? We never told each other we were going to meet at the maple tree on the edge of the fair field, but we always did, without fail.  
  
That is, until Rose came along.  
  
You first saw her one day at market, when I was buying butter for Bilbo and you were contemplating a jar of sewing needles, trying to find one for your mother. I finished my purchase and came over to help you choose, when suddenly she was there. She handed you the very needle I had privately selected, and you accepted it with an awkward bow and blush. I found it amusing then and shrugged it off, but why then did the incident stick in my mind so that now, after losing part of myself to Isildur's Bane, I can still remember it?  
  
And do you remember the day you told me of your engagement?  
  
I was sitting in my study writing when I heard the front door open and close with a soft bang. I smiled ever so slightly and dipped my quill into the ink pot, ready to transfer the sentence in my head to paper. Just as I touched pen to parchment you knocked softly on my door.  
  
"Come in," I said, and set my pen down.  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Frodo," you says a little nervously. I could see you were' trying to hide something, and decided to play along.  
  
"Good morning," I answered, wiping my inky fingers.  
  
"How's the book coming?" you asked, nodding towards the large volume lying open on the table surrounded by sheets and sheets of hastily-scrawled notes.  
  
"Well enough," I answered, for it pained me to speak of. "Is there something you wish to tell me?" Sam usually doesn't come in to chat until elevensies, so I knew it's something important. You cleared your throat nervously, and I noticed you've buttoned up your collar.  
  
'That's odd,' I thought vaguely. You're usually more casual in dress.  
  
"It's about Rosie, sir," you said. "I'm going to marry her."  
  
I was silent for a split second and then I rose to grasp your hand warmly.  
  
"Congratulations, Sam," I said, hoping my smile fooled you sufficiently. "She's a wonderful lass. You'll both be very happy."  
  
Your features melted in relief. Apparently it worked.  
  
"Thank you, sir," he says, and begins to leave. When he's halfway through the door he peeks his head back in and says once more "Thank you!" Then he's gone, leaving me sitting, doubting at my desk.  
  
I had been the one to encourage him to court Rosie. I had introduced him to her, her to him. I had helped Sam overcome his shyness with the lasses and ask her for his first dance. Because Sam seemed to like her, I pushed my best friend into something without taking the time to consider what the cost would be.  
  
Oh, how I regret it now. He's lost from me forever. He's gone, and there's no bringing him back. He's Rose's. And I can't even tell him I love him.  
  
~*~  
  
Sam and I are sitting in front of the fire in the parlor. As I am reading, I have the innate feeling of being watched. I try to bury myself in the book, but to no avail. Finally with a sigh I set it down and return the stare.  
  
"What's wrong, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asks, concern flickering in his warm brown eyes.  
  
"Nothing," I say, and pick up my book again. Sam sighs and the chair creaks as he gets up.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll be goin' then," he says, and the front door slams softly behind him.  
  
How can one share a person? How can one be free to talk if there's the lingering doubt he will relate your secrets to his other half? How can you be free to love unconditionally, if there is the fear of having his wife think you're stealing him? I couldn't bear to wreck their marriage. It's too innocent and beautiful. So I must give him up.  
  
But then, how does one give up a person? It sounds so easy, yet it's the hardest thing in the world. We've been through fire and death, and back again, and just when I thought we could be happy, just when I thought I could have a brother at last, our cord is severed and left trailing in the black dust.  
  
I've never had a brother, and I never will now. Is that too selfish of me, to want something I can't have? I envy Rose, and the bond you share. Why, Sam? Did our friendship ever mean anything to you? Or were you trying to protect me?  
  
The seed, that lonely, lonely seed has matured into a blossoming plant, and I don't want you poisoned by my grey bitterness. I don't lock myself away in my study because I want solitude.  
  
The scars will never fade. Sting, blade, and tooth don't wound without leaving their mark. But you don't know how deep they go. You think my wounds are physical, and they are, partly. But I could find healing if I knew you loved me back. If you were there to comfort me and nudge me through every anniversary, I could stand it. But you're not.  
  
I can't bear it anymore, Sam. This wound will never really heal.  
  
~*~  
  
I'm going away.  
  
You deserve to be loved, utterly and without hindrance. I am a stumbling block for you now, one that needs to be removed.  
  
So, goodbye Sam. I'm leaving because of my wounds.  
  
Namarie. Nai Anar caluva tielyanna.  
  
Melinyel, meldo nya.  
  
~~~~*~~~~  
  
Please review! Let me know if I did what I set out to do, that is, write no slash.  
  
* Quenya: Farewell. May the sun shine on your path. I love you, my friend.  
  
NOTE~ Should I do a Merry/Pippin one, and/or a Legolas/Aragorn one? It probably won't be as good, because I don't know those characters AS WELL as I do Frodo and Sam, but I can try. If I do, it won't come out until I finish my current story, 'The Master of Bag End.' 


End file.
